Wake Me Up When It's Over
by AB24
Summary: Six months post Day 6, Jack returns from his selfimposed exile to find Chloe adrift in her own crisis. JackChloe, will be multichapter


By now he was used to the stares he received from the faces that dotted the floor of CTU, none of them ringing familiar as Jack Bauer walked through the entrance for the first time in six months. He came to a halt and looked on as the movements of the personnel stilled at their workstations, their whispers audible to his ears as they spilled from the lips of people he didn't know and yet presumed to know him. He wondered what they were saying this time, and if he wanted to know. This was precisely the atmosphere he had to escape following his return, precisely what he never wanted to return to again. As much as it was true, however, to be back almost felt like coming home, just as it had each time he returned in the past. It was who he was, no matter how many times he started over, disappeared, or was forced into another life. Somehow he always found his way back to hell.

But this time it wasn't for a job. He was promised of that, never mind if he was skeptical. He couldn't imagine what could be so urgent that Nadia would demand his presence as strongly as she had if it wasn't for a job. She wasn't the first to call and try to persuade him to come in, far from it - he had been ignoring those calls for some time now. But it was the emotion that hid underneath the surface of her voice that told him that this, whatever it was, was different.

Finally he put one foot in front of the other, keeping his eyes straight and head as high as he could allow as Nadia came into view ahead of him. She was as poised as he remembered, the look of class and dignity as her heels clicked across the floor and her right hand outstretched for his. "Jack," she nodded, taking his hand into a firm grip as the stares surrounding them slowly dropped. "Thank you for coming in." Her voice lowered before she continued. "How are you?"

He paused, knowing full well she didn't expect an honest answer. "I'm fine," he replied. "What's going on?"

She took a breath and gestured behind her. "Follow me," she instructed as she turned and led him to the situation room. As they walked, Jack searched the floor for a glimpse of the only person he looked forward to seeing today, the friend he hadn't seen or spoken to since the day he returned from China, but she was nowhere to be found. CTU without Chloe was a strange looking place, a place full of strangers among memories, a place without its heart. He assumed she was on break or some other part of the building and tried to put it out of his mind as Nadia pulled open the door to the situation room and stepped aside as he walked in.

Waiting inside was Milo, who rose from his seat at the conference table as the pair walked inside. "Hey Jack," he greeted as Nadia closed the door behind them.

"Hey," Jack replied, looking to Nadia and then back back to Milo as he grew more puzzled by the minute. Milo returned to his seat as Nadia sat and motioned for Jack to do the same. As he sat, Nadia exchanged a nervous glance with Milo before looking to Jack and getting straight to the point.

"Jack," she began, "I know you're wondering what's so important that we needed you here today. But the truth is, it's not us or CTU that needs your help."

"What then?" he asked.

Nadia looked down at the table, and Milo opened his mouth to speak. "It's Chloe."

Jack's face paled noticeably. "Chloe? What about Chloe? Is she alright?"

Milo shook his head. "No, Jack, she's not. She..." he paused, knowing there was no way to soften the blow of the truth of her situation. "She had a miscarriage less than a month ago. Things fell apart afterwards. She stopped coming in to work, and Morris moved out of their place. I don't know who broke up with who. He said it was mutual, but under the circumstances, who knows," he said as Jack's face hardened at the sound of Morris' name.

"Son of a bitch," Jack growled under his breath as he leaned forward against the table and rested his head in one of his hands. "My God. How is she holding up?"

"Not good, Jack," Nadia replied with a shake of her head. "That's why we called you. She's shut all of us out. She won't answer her phone or open her door to anyone."

"What makes you think she'll treat me any differently?" Jack asked innocently as neither Milo or Nadia found words to reply with, both looking at each other for inspiration as the question hung in the air.

"Look," Nadia finally responded, "You mean a lot to her as a friend. She responds to you in ways she doesn't respond to anybody else. If anyone can get through to her and be in a position to help her, Jack, it's you."

Jack paused, wanting her words to be true but finding them hard to believe. "Nadia," he sais quietly, "I haven't spoken to her since the day I came back from China. I don't know if she would even want to see me."

"Who _have_ you spoken to since then?" Milo asked pointedly before Nadia quickly turned to him and hissed a repudiation.

"It's fine, Nadia," Jack assured with a slight shrug. "Listen...I really hope that I can help her in some way, but I just don't know."

"Jack," Nadia sighed, "I got to know Chloe pretty well over this last year. And one of the things I learned about her was that she's never once questioned her faith in you, wherever you've been or whatever you've done. You're special to her, Jack. It doesn't take a lot to see that."

Jack looked away, unable to shake the feeling that he had failed her somehow in these last few months. Her feelings were mutual, and they always had been. He tried to show her how much he valued and cared for her a few times, but something, or someone, always managed to get in the way. Then there were the crises that they endured together, followed by long gaps in time where neither would speak to the other, and for no real reason. Whatever time was lost between them, nothing ever stopped them from taking up a place in the others' thoughts, not even China - perhaps especially not.

"Where is she?" Jack finally asked, relief visible on the others' faces.

"This is her address," Milo said as he scribbled on a small piece of paper, adding, "If she's not there, I honestly don't know where I'd start looking."

Jack nodded and stood as he took the paper from Milo's hand, studying it briefly as the others rose and prepared to thank him. "Thank you both for doing this," Jack said before either could speak. "I could feel it when I walked in here and didn't see her that something was wrong. I just wouldn't have dreamed it was this bad."

"Just...do what you can," Nadia said as she placed a hand on Jack's arm, the slightest smile crossing her lips.

"I will," Jack replied before nodding at Milo and turning for the door. They watched him swing the door open and walk away, hoping against hope that he could bring their friend back to the place she deserved to be.

Jack turned a few yards out of the situation room and glanced through the clear walls to see Milo drape an arm around Nadia and pull her close, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as she leaned it on his shoulder. Jack's gaze lingered for a moment before he caught himself and turned, his stride picking up speed as he neared CTU's exit. He was nearly running by the time he made it back to his car, his only thought being Chloe and getting to her as fast as the engine of his car would allow.

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He had driven as if he were being chased, slipping past red lights and cutting in and out of traffic, all to get here as a fast as he could, but now that he stood in front of the door labeled #19, he found himself hesitant to knock. He had no idea what to expect. He half-expected Chloe to open the door, see the concern on his face and roll her eyes before snapping something snarky about how yes, even she needs time off every so often, what's so scary about that? It wouldn't have been the first time she would shrug off his concern. But he knew he was being merely wishful - this was different, he knew it. Everybody breaks at some point, even his unbreakable Chloe. She had been the anchor that kept him going so many times before, was always there to pick up the pieces that he or others left behind, and he had gotten far too used to it. The idea that it was his turn to pick up her pieces was utterly terrifying - he wasn't even sure if he was whole himself, or if he would ever be again.

Taking a breath and telling his mind to calm itself down, he finally raised his right hand and lightly tapped his knuckles against the door. He waited for a response but got none. He knocked again, and fared no better. He then put an ear to the door and faintly heard the sound of a TV in the background, assuring him enough of her presence that he decided to call her name and see if that got her attention.

"Chloe," he called into the door, "it's Jack." He waited, but still found no reaction. "Chloe?"

Now he was getting worried. He twisted the doorknob to find it locked - no surprise there. He stood back and sighed, mentally weighing his options. He didn't bring a locksmith kit, so there was really only one. Chloe would be angry, but that was inconsequential at this point. He braced himself and took a step back, gathering his strength before kicking the door open and nearly taking it off its hinges in the process.

The door slammed against the wall to its left several times before Jack stepped inside, instantly taken aback by the conditions of the apartment. He wasn't one for cliches, but it looked like a tornado - or several - had torn through it, and to make matters worse, there was no sign of Chloe anywhere. The TV was stuck on an infomercial, and as he crept further inside, he caught a glimpse of the laptop that sat on a coffee table near the television, and to his quickly intensifying dismay, there was a layer of dust across its surface. "Chloe," he called again, this time with more force as he started darting from corner to corner, eventually finding the hallway and opening door after door, finding her in none of them.

"Dammit," he muttered upon opening the last door and again coming up short. If she wasn't here, she could be anywhere - and by now he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he was sure she was safe. After a brief moment of despair, he started back down the hallway, checking each room again, just to be sure.

He was about to close the door to her bedroom and start scouring the city when something inside caught his eye. He opened the door all the way and peered inside, noting that the door to an adjoining bathroom was open and leaking light from inside. He entered the room and quickly made his way to the bathroom door, pushing it open and finding Chloe hunched over the toilet, passed out, with an empty fifth of vodka keeping her company on the floor by her feet. The sight was so jarring, so saddening, and so unlike the Chloe he knew that he had to take a breath before finding the strength to move from his frozen stance and go to her.

"God, Chloe," he half-whispered as he finally rushed to her side and knelt down on the tile, quickly pulling her away from the toilet and cradling her head in his arm as he lowered her into his lap. Her face was pale and striking against the tan of his forearm, and her skin was like ice to his touch. He maneuvered his jacket off and bundled it together before placing it on the floor and gently easing her head onto it. He then rose and fumbled through the bathroom until he found a washcloth, which he took to the sink and soaked with water before grabbing a towel and returning to the floor beside her.

He lifted her back into his arms and wrapped the towel around her for warmth before bringing the damp cloth to her forehead, squeezing out a few drops in the hope that it might wake her. She began to stir a bit, and he started calling her name as her eyes started to open ever slowly. She focused on his face and tried to remember where she was as her voice cracked and struggled to form coherent words. "Wh-...Jack..."

That was all it took and Chloe launched out of his arms and back to the toilet, dry heaving and finding nothing inside left to give. He held her steady and kept her hair out of her face, rubbing her back soothingly as she eventually relaxed and closed her eyes in exhaustion as she tried to catch her breath. His eyes never left her face, and his hand stayed on her back when she opened her eyes and shot him a half-glance from the corner of her eye. "What are you doing here, Jack?" she asked wearily.

He ignored the question and reached behind him to pick his jacket off the floor. He wrapped it around her trembling shoulders and asked softly, "Are you done?"

"I think so," she nodded. He then rose to his feet and helped lift her on to hers, promptly picking her up into his arms and meeting an exhausted lack of resistance. She rested her pounding head against his shoulder as he carried her out of the bathroom and into the living room, where he gently eased her down to the couch. She watched as he pulled a blanket crumpled up between a cushion and an armrest near her feet and shook it out to smooth it before covering her with it. "I'll be right back," he promised quietly before leaving her sight.

If not for the splitting headache and lingering nausea claiming otherwise, she would have written off the entire incident as a pathetic dream and not allowed herself to believe that he was actually there, clanking around in her kitchen, turning the sink off & on and looking back to check on her every few seconds. It wouldn't have been the first such dream of hers, that was for sure. A part of her hoped it _was_ a dream and that he didn't actually see her like this, sitting comfortably at rock bottom and too dazed to notice. She was afraid if she looked in his eyes she would see the same look she found in everybody else's, that concerned sympathy coupled with caution that if they said one wrong word she would break into a thousand pieces. She despised that look, and it was one of the reasons why she had pulled a disappearing act of her own. But the idea of Jack seeing her like this was enough to send a sharp bolt of pain straight through her heart.

Her eyes had drifted closed, opening when he reappeared bearing a glass of water and, almost charmingly, two aspirins.

"Those aren't going to do anything," she muttered, trying to sit up as she took the glass from his hands.

"Can't hurt," he replied, dropping the pills into her hand anyway.

He knelt down on the floor in front of the couch, bringing their faces almost level as he waited for her to swallow the pills before speaking. When she forced them down and handed the glass back to him he took a breath before asking in a whisper, "Chloe, what are you doing?"

She looked into his eyes and searched for the look she dreaded seeing, but it wasn't there. Instead she found what she could only interpret as pure hurt. "What, so you're the only one who's allowed to have nervous breakdowns and disappear for months at a time?"

He knew he deserved it, so he accepted it and continued. "You're too smart to do this to yourself, Chloe. This isn't you, and you know it."

"All I know is that..." her voice trailed off and she looked away, sighing and staring at the ceiling.

"What?" he pressed.

"Nothing, okay?" she muttered. "I'm fine. You can go back wherever you disappeared to. I really don't know why you're here in the first place."

"I'm here because I care about you," he replied, pausing. "I'm sorry I haven't been here, but..."

Jack fell silent as Chloe's eyes began to shimmer with tears, finding himself at a loss for what to do. "Chloe," he called softly, reaching towards her face before she turned away from his touch.

"Do you have any idea how much it hurts to keep losing you, Jack?" she asked bitterly through a shaky voice. "I know you don't think you do, but you have people who care about you, and you keep leaving them. All you ever do is leave them."

His expression turned pained at her words, and he struggled to find his own. "I don't...I don't mean to, I just..."

"I've needed you, Jack," she interrupted, a tear falling down her cheek. "I've needed you so much these last few months."

Her words startled her, bursting out despite herself. She pressed her lips together and tried to angle away from him as he looked on in stunned silence. It took a moment for him to unfreeze his voice and reply quietly, "I'm here now."

She let out a sigh and shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine. I am."

"Stop saying that, Chloe," he suddenly half-ordered. "You're not fine, and you know it as well as I do."

"Fine, I'm not - what do you want from me, Jack?" she snapped. "Do you want me to cry and fall apart so you can try and fix me? I'm sorry, but I really don't think you're in much of a position to do that."

"Listen to me," he said, his tone more forceful, "you can insult me and snap at me all you want, and trust me, I know I deserve it. But I'm here now, Chloe, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm not."

His eyes locked into hers, and for a moment, she could almost believe him. Almost.

"I'll be fine, Jack, thank you," she muttered, sitting up and swinging her legs off of the couch and pressing her feet to the floor. With determination she rose and tried to keep steady, closing her eyes briefly to try to stop the room from spinning. Jack stood to his feet and watched as she took a breath and stepped forward, only making a few steps before her knees gave out from under her. He sprung forward and caught her before she hit the floor, easing her down and whispering "I've got you," into her ear and watching tears well up once again in her eyes.

He looked intently into her sad eyes and brushed her hair from her face as a single tear slowly escaped the corner of her eye, leaving a trail of moisture across her cheek before he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes before he pulled her close in his arms and held her head as it rested on his shoulder, running comforting fingers through her hair as he repeated the only words that came to mind, the only words that felt right.

"I've got you."


End file.
